


Late Nights

by Luciferine



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Compliant Only to the First Game, Drabble, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Written Prior to Sequel Release, but ellie is great so it kinda works out, ellie/joel if you squint, insert backstory as you desire, it could really be in any universe, its short and really sweet i just wanted them to be happy for once, joel puts up with a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferine/pseuds/Luciferine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie just wants to talk. Joel just wants to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Nights

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Keeping up the tradition of posting things for my readers on my birthday, because I love you all dearly. Just some short, fluffy goodness. While I'm working on (and posting- everything up to chapter 5 of Counting Stars is done!) the edit, I occasionally write out some prompts, and we end up with stuff like this. For prompting-anonymous who wanted me to use the quote "Who the fuck was Ozymandias" in a piece of my writing. Also based on a Tumblr post that asked, 'which of your OTP keeps the other up at night asking really deep questions?' I thought of Joel and Ellie right away. Warnings for some unresolved feelings, maybe? Also a complete and utter lack of regard for personal space.

"Who the fuck was Ozymandias, anyways?" Silence. Maybe if he ignores her, she'll stop.  _Yeah, 'cause that worked so well the last dozen times._ "Okay,  _fine._ Forget that one." A few blessed moments of quiet, and then... "D'you ever think about how we're just these little specks, floating around in space? I mean, it's cool, but... also really fucking terrifying, you know?"

" _Ellie,_ " he growls, lifting his head up to glare at her.

And apparently, that counts as some kind of invitation he wasn't aware of, because then she's flopping onto his chest, her elbows digging into his ribs as she props herself up. Joel sighs, resigning himself to a sleepless night. He  _knew_ acknowledging her would be a mistake, he fucking  _knew it_ , but  _damn_ if his girl isn't persistent.

She shifts, all bones and sharp angles against him. He winces, grumbling out a low warning sound that she completely ignores. He glowers at her, but he doesn't try to push her off, either. She just smiles and stretches out, makes herself comfortable like she belongs there.

"Yeah, yeah. I know.  _Go the fuck to sleep_." He can  _hear_ her eye-roll, or maybe he's just starting to hallucinate. "My brain doesn't wanna shut up, okay?"

"Neither does your mouth, apparently."

"I thought you liked my mouth." She flashes him a cheeky grin that's clear as anything even in the low light, and laughs out loud at his expression. "Come  _on_ , you walked right into that one."

He did, but there's no way in hell he's telling  _her_ that. " _Ellie_."

" _Joel_ ," she mimics. "I'm having deep, philosophical thoughts here. The least you can do is humor me."

"My entire  _life_ is humorin' you. Least I deserve is a break at night."

"That was uncalled for," she says, pretending to be hurt. "Your life is at  _least_ three and a half times better with me in it."

He snorts, doesn't bother to contradict her. "Why the half?"

"Four seemed a bit too conceited, even for me." She sits up on his stomach, crosses her legs all dainty-like, and stares at him with barely concealed amusement.

Joel lets his head fall back against his pillow with a muffled thud and tries to swallow down the laugh that's building in his chest. "Three and three quarters,  _maybe_." She makes a delighted little noise and he scoffs, trying not to think of how much he likes the sound. "When you ain't a pain in my ass, at least."

"How about now?" she asks, poking him in the side with her toes.

"Two and a half," he says, as gravely as he can.

"Oh, so it's  _serious_."

"Very." His mouth turns up into a smile, and damn this girl for dragging him into her games and making him  _like it_

"Damn. Here I thought you'd be up for some intelligent conversation," she teases.

He doesn't bother to respond. He grabs her pillow off the bed and swings it at her face. She yelps, loses balance as it makes an impact. "I've been hit!" she groans pitifully. "Betrayed in cold blood!" She starts to slide off of him like she's gonna fall off the bed. He almost lets her, just to see the look on her face, but he grabs her up at the last second. "I thought we  _had_ something, Joel. How could you?"

"Serves you right for bein' such a smartass."

" _Goodbye_ , cruel world," she sighs, ignoring him completely. She falls on him and goes completely still.

"Ellie, get up. I ain't a goddamn teddy bear." She doesn't move, must be holding her breath because he doesn't feel her breathing against his neck. "Ellie, that ain't funny." Still nothing. "I will  _make_  you move, girl. Don't think I won't." The very beginnings of worry stir in his chest, even though the whole thing is miles beyond ridiculous. He pokes her in the ribs, huffs with relief when she yelps out a laugh.

"Not fair! Tickling is off limits, you bastard."

"So's playin' dead," he counters. He reaches for her again, grinning as she squirms out of the way.

"Asshole," she mutters, but her face is inches from his and she's smiling like the fucking  _sun._ "You're so fucking lucky I like you."

"Depends on your definition of 'lucky' I guess."

She shoves him and scoffs. "Whatever, jackass. You  _love_ me."

He shrugs, reaches up to tug on her hair where it's hanging loose and tickling his face. "You're still a smartass," he shoots back, trying to ignore the warmth in his chest.  _And I'm goin' straight to hell._

"And you're still a cranky bastard. And yet, here we are."

He throws an arm around her and she snuggles up to him gladly. "Here we are." He watches with amusement as she tries to grasp the discarded pillow. He swats her hand away. "Don't start, kid. 'Cause I will fuckin' finish it if you do."

"Promise?" she challenges, and when she looks up at him her eyes are dancing.

_I am so, so fucked,_ he thinks resignedly.

He blows out a long, steady breath. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"

She sighs, rests her chin on his chest. "Two and a half?"

Silence, then, grudgingly, "Four."


End file.
